


Wandering

by LadyCharliEM



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Spoilers for Series 3 Episode 1, Spoilers for The Empty Hearse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:31:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCharliEM/pseuds/LadyCharliEM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly's moving on. Although her mind does wander every now and again... Spoilers for Series 3 Ep 1 The Empty Hearse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wandering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PetraTodd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetraTodd/gifts).



> Hello, 
> 
> This fic does spill some beans on Series 3 Episode 1 so please do not read if you haven't seen the episode yet and want to remain spoiler free! 
> 
> I wrote this fic for the amazing Sandra. She got me into the Sherlolly fandom and I cannot thank her enough because so much wonderful stuff has happened in my life because of it! 
> 
> I do need to give Petra Todd a huge thank you for going over this story and giving me some great advise as well as fixing all my terrible grammar mistakes. 
> 
> This fic is for both of you. A tiny contribution to the loveliest fandom out there!

Glass shattered around her and the cold wind hit her like a tornado. Molly almost cried out as she jumped back, never expecting the force of him crashing though the window would cause such a huge downpour of broken shards to head straight her way. 

Lowering her arms away from her face and catching her breath, she looked up to see him unclip a carabiner from a hidden harness beneath his coat and shake off the glass with one swift movement. 

How could anyone make that look so effortless? She wondered briefly. 

Stepping forward to see if he had hurt himself, remembering the plan and how smoothly it had to be played out for it to work, Molly reached out to help him only to feel his hands cup her jaw steadily, halting her frenzied hands.

Somethings gone wrong! Her mind screamed, eyes wide as she watched Sherlock lower his face towards hers. 

There was only a split second of his blue eyes coming towards her and the feel of his thighs against hers before she felt it. 

She wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline or the fear but it took her brain a moment to register what happened. Sherlock's mouth was pressed against hers, hot and firm. She stood frozen, his lips parting to capture her bottom one and pull her into a deeper kiss. 

A deep moan vibrated through her and she barely realised it was his. This was not part of the plan...

Her body suddenly jolted awake, hands reaching up to grab his coat and pull him closer to her. It was bruising, a mix of joy, and relief this con was actually working and lust for a man she had given up hope on igniting.

His hands were confident, angling her to the perfect degree so he could fully claim her mouth as his. His body pressed against hers and his height and dark coat suddenly seemed smothering but Oh God, she was happy to be overwhelmed! Molly had wished for this so many times but not even her wildest fantasies allowed her to think of this. 

As soon as that thought shot through her mind, he was gone, leaving her practically stumbling on the spot at his abrupt absence. She somehow managed to catch herself, arms still midair. Her breath heavy as she recovered. She had the urge to press her hand over her heart, to calm the speed it started to pound the second his lips caught hers. You're being silly, Molly, she told herself, swallowing hard as her breathing began to slow to a normal pace. 

Did that really just happen? Did he...? Did they..? Did the plan work?! 

She stood blinking, unsure if she trusted herself to do anything more than that, her mouth hanging slightly open as she watched his retreating back. Coat billowing out with a purpose as he finished the next step.

Her hand absentmindedly drifted to her lips, still unsure that really just happened as Sherlock pushed open the rooms double doors and headed down the corridor as if he owned the place. Turning back, hands that had previously cradled her face now tucked in his pockets, he stared at her intently, a look and a wicked smirk that were just for her caused her lower belly to clench and burn...

Sherlock... 

"Molly?" Her eyes must have glazed over as it took a few blinks for them to focus back in the room. "Are you alright?" Tom asked, his tone kind and gentle and not the deep one she was expecting.

She smiled, her attention back in the room. They were sitting in a corner spot in a small pub on the end of Tom's road where they usually had the fish and chip special on Fridays. "To celebrate the weekend" Tom always said, although she still had to work the odd weekend, it was nice to have a sense of normality in their routine. 

"Yeah, yeah... fine." Molly brushed a strand of loose hair behind her ear. She meant to get it cut soon but somehow never found the time. "Sorry." She eyed the last few chips left on the plate, no longer feeling hungry. Actually, she felt quite sick, and hot. She took off her cardigan and let it fall on the back of the chair.

"Oh, you were miles away. What were you thinking of Mol?" He stabbed his final chunky chip with a fork and popped it in his mouth. She glanced at her barely used utensils, feeling guilty again that unlike him she nearly always used her fingers. 

"Nothing, just Phillip Anderson and another one of his silly theories." 

He sighed after he finished chewing. "He really needs to stop it now. It's gone too far, it's like a sick fascination that he won't let go." Molly nodded, not really listening. "Doesn't he realise how cruel it is to keep coming up with these theories and pressuring you to agree? Like if you said yes it would magically become true or something?" 

"He doesn't mean any harm." She spun her pint glass slowly on the spot, looking at the condensation ring it left on the table to avoid his gaze. 

It was true, Anderson did take things too far, mainly out of guilt. And it would have broken her heart if Sherlock was really dead. But he wasn't and Anderson's latest idea was a little too close for comfort. Never before had he predicted she was involved and recently he'd started cornering her, asking questions and trying to get her to slip up. It had her worried, though she was glad he went to her or Greg and not John with his theories.

Although that didn't stop her mind from mulling over the over-exaggerated movie-action like sequence he had explained in his rather long email to her that afternoon. It was inappropriate and she honestly had no idea why anyone would include a kiss like that in a theory that also involved high tech doubles masks and blue contact lenses... It was the stuff of fiction! Although Molly loved action adventure movies where the heroine and hero share a passionate kiss before or after some vital moment... Her breath catching in her throat at those moments as she connected with the passionate scene.

Not that she would admit that to Anderson who seemed pretty intent on describing every detail of the fictitious kiss. That was actually slightly more concerning than him guessing she was involved. She made a face at her unfinished meal at the idea of Anderson watching her and Sherlock kiss.

She felt herself blush. She was meant to be on a date with her long term boyfriend not daydreaming about Sherlock Holmes.

She kept her lips shut in a tight smile and nodded as Tom continued. 

"Maybe I should talk to him? If- if you want? Tell him and that fan group to leave you alone." Tom suggested with a smile, obviously noticing her uncomfortable silence and assuming it was regarding the Deerstalker gang Anderson ran rather than her own guilty thoughts. 

"No, it's really okay. It's just that time of year, and with the case to get Sher- him acquitted coming up I kind of thought this would happen again." She reached over the table and patted his long sleeved shirt covered arm. It was that nice navy coloured one she liked. The one he wore when she met his parents three weeks ago. The one he only wears for special occasions regarding her after she told him he looked good in dark blue. Her eyes looked down at his hands and scanned upwards. Sweaty palms, yet cool to touch so he obviously not hot she pondered. She noticed his right hand twitching towards his pocket as if he was worried about something important held there, breath shallower than normal in a warm relaxed pub. 

His shoulders tensed as her forehead crinkled up in thought. When she finally reached his face, she saw his expression was a mixture of worry and relief. He knew that she now already knew what was about to happen. He sighed, both unsurprised and disappointed and she immediately felt guilty.

"Well, I was going to do this proper. When you weren't so- when you'd had a better day or something. But I can tell you've already figured it out, so..." His right arm slipped out from under her hand and brought the item he was so concerned about out onto the table. 

Molly's eyes were wide as she looked between the ring and the man in front of her. His smile was sweet and nervous, his chin dimple making him appear more boyish than ever. 

"I'm just going to come out and say it, okay? So, Molly Hooper, will you marry me?" 

She wasn't sure why, but she ended up staring at her bare ring finger for a while, a hundred thoughts making themselves known before she smiled, almost beamed at him. "Yes. Of course!" 

Excitement bubbled up sooner than she thought possible as she stood up awkwardly and leaned over the table to kiss him, their dinner left forgotten. She felt his wide smile and laughter against her lips. It was nice. 

"Oh thank god! I was so worried... And then- Nevermind. Here!" He stuttered and Molly couldn't help but grin at him. Tom caught her left hand in his and used his right to slip the ring on. Bringing it to eye level she was surprised to see the beautiful yet simple design. It was perfect. 

"Oh my god. We're engaged." She covered her smile with her hand, the cold ring brushing her bottom lip. 

They slowly sat back down, silly grins plastered on their faces. 

"Yes we are." Tom held her hand on top of the table. "I cannot tell you how relieved I am you said yes!" They laughed together, a nervous energy lifting and he gave her hand a comforting squeeze as he began to explain how her meeting his parents the other week was also so him and his dad could sneak out and get his grandmothers ring sized for her while Molly and his mother went shopping and 'bonded'. She smiled throughout, until her cheeks hurt, almost certain she looked like a madwoman to anyone looking in on them.

Molly found herself locked in Tom's bathroom that night. Hating herself for sending a text to Mycroft at 3am using the code they put in place nearly two years ago.

/Hiya. Is Larry off sick? Haven't seen him in like 4 days. Thanks!/ 

She knew the code off by heart and also knew in less than ten minutes she'd have a vague reply that 'Larry Russ' was on holiday in some country that Molly knew wasn't really where he was. She knew Anthea could reply instantly on Mycroft's behalf but 4 was the lowest priority and 'Larry' was one of 13 possible reasons she could contact him. But at least it would give her some peace of mind and help calm the unsettling fear that had lingered in her stomach since earlier. 

"He's okay." She told herself. "I'm okay." Molly sat on the floor with her back against the edge of the bath. 

"I'm okay." She repeated, staring at the shut door. Thinking about the wonderful man on the other side; about how she was finally moving on, and about Anderson becoming more of a hassle than she ever imagined possible. Her phone vibrated in her tense hand. 

"I'm okay." She forced a smile in the darkness. Swiping the screen to read the message she dropped the phone. The echo of it hitting the cold floor tiles was muted in her mind as the words she read repeated themselves.

/Mycroft is bringing him back to work tomorrow. I'll need that coat back. A/

Xxxxxx


End file.
